


Flowers For Your Love

by RedThePear



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:12:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedThePear/pseuds/RedThePear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short, happy fic. Valjean heads out in town on a lovely afternoon and starts searching for a gift for Javert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers For Your Love

Valjean takes his time as he descends the cheerful street. White-blond buildings surround the coral red pavement that sings under his soles. Somewhere in a nearby plaza, a bird answers to the blues piano music pouring out of a clear window. The atmosphere on this early afternoon is soft and happy, and it did not take a long time for Jean to be caught in it.

The white-haired, white-bearded man carries his blue gaze from one colorful shop to another. Sometimes, an item behind the glass brings his mind back to a grey-eyed, sideburned man. Should he bring something back to Javert? What should he bring back to him? 

A sweet wind comes to Valjean's nose. Looking ahead, he spots a bakery. Porcelain trays display appetizing pyramids of small, caramel-colored and glistening cakes. Canelés, a regional delicacy, informs a fancy label. He wonders for a few moments. Would these sweets please Javert? A memory comes to his mind. 

"No, Valjean, I won't have any more cake. Stop stuffing me like a pig for slaughter! I have a uniform to fit in."  
No, these canelés aren't a good idea. Jean shrugs and enters the shop nonetheless, and comes out a minute later, enthusiastically chewing on a fresh cake. He continues his walk, the taste of caramel and rum still dancing on his buds. 

The second shop Valjean stops at is a wine cellar. Maybe having something new at the dinner table would bring a smile on the other man's face? He enters the room, walking around the narrow alleys framed by wooden shelves towering over him. There is a smell of humidity, wood and stone, and Jean shivers from the coolness of the cellar as he looks at different bottles.

Some time later, Jean comes to a conclusion: He isn't connoisseur enough to choose a bottle for Javert. Besides, he remembers suddenly another memory.  
-Javert in a fit of anger, trying to stand up to Valjean, but falling back on the couch. Javert yelling "Leave me alone, 24601!". Javert crying, huddled on his lap, sobbing excuses while Jean strokes his hair.-

No, wine isn't the best of ideas for someone who can't hold alcohol. Valjean gets ready to leave the shop, but is stopped by a young man with stubble on his chin and rich brown locks who encourages him to try a glass. He leaves the shop after a glass of refreshing white wine… And another of red… To finish with a rosé. He blinks at the sun and continues his search, his head agreeably dizzy. 

Jean looks at the pure blue sky, a blue the color of joy. He is so entranced by this blue that he doesn't notice the small young man with a heap of flowers in his arms and collides with him.  
"I'm very sorry, I should have been paying attention," he mumbles as he helps gathering up armfuls of colors and scents.  
"No harm done, Monsieur, but if you don't mind, I'd like it if you carried all these into the shop", answers the adolescent with a soft, smiling voice.

And so Valjean follows him into a room covered from floor to ceiling with flowers and plants of all sorts. Dazzled by the view, he suddenly realizes that flowers, yes, flowers for Javert would be a good thing. He waits until the young man with flowers in his copper braid and iridescent sparks in his eyes has finished arranging his charge, and asks him what kind of flowers would suit the lovely, austere man waiting for him at home.

"There is a language in flowers, Monsieur, murmurs the other as he rustles about bouquets and cascades of odorant blossoms. The best way to offer flowers is by telling a story through them."  
And he offers Valjean a seat and for an hour, tells him everything about the messages one can convey with flowers.

Jean leaves the shop when the joy-blue sky has turned into a love-pink and gold one. A veil of warmth covers the whole city, and seems to hush up the noise of streets. In the man's arms dances a huge bouquet of violets, tulips and yellow roses, studded here and there with the crimson droplet of a red carnation.

He arrives at the rented apartment a while later, and opens the door happily, showing to the man he knows is waiting for him his scented gift. 

But the said gift falls from his arms and falls onto the floor with a dull thud, scattering petals everywhere.

Javert is standing in the middle of the room with a huge bouquet of red roses and white and yellow dahlias in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic to give off a happy, sweet feeling, and also to place some Valvert in my lovely city Bordeaux :)  
> Little bonus: You can have fun searching for the meanings of the two bouquets... ;)


End file.
